


Leave The Lights On

by clutzycricket



Series: Little Earthquakes [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:02:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutzycricket/pseuds/clutzycricket
Summary: When the cracks start to show, and the stories begin, there are a few things you should try to put your faith in. Friendship, hope, stories, family...Well, maybe. Balance the future and the past, play games, do homework... survive?Surviving is a plan.





	1. These Precious Things

“Neville, Harry! Oh, Ronald. Where’s Hermione?” Sansa was racing to catch up to them, the Ravenclaw girl bouncing with joy and nearly knocking over a third-year, turning over, and apoligizing swiftly and earning a smile in return. 

“Think it’s magic?” Neville asked curiously. Harry looked at him, and he stumbled to add, “How she gets people to listen to her.”

“Yes,” Ron said gloomily. “Like Hermione with manners.”

Harry wanted to protest this- while Sansa was a bit high-strung, she seemed to get people a bit better. Of course, Hermione was his friend too… 

The redheaded girl came up. “Neville, please tell me your Gran said it was alright that you come to Christmas at Winterfell. Arya’s going to be sulking about Ginny being in Romania with her family, and Harry you are of course invited, Mother is thrilled I actually have friends outside of my letters…”

She blushed, the color clashing violently with her hair. “Er… well, you know what I mean. And Ron might as well come, since Jon and Aunt Lya are going to be bringing the Twins. And Sam.” She was smiling a bit, though. “And Hermione is of course invited, she was asking me dozens of questions about wizarding holidays.”

“Would your parents be alright with it?” Harry asked, looking at Hermione coming up behind Ron, talking animatedly with Jon and Sam Tarly. 

“Winterfell is massive- not Hogwarts levels of massive, but large enough that we won’t all be sleeping in sleeping bags,” Sansa shrugged. “And really, you can’t be any more awkward than our family already is.”

“True,” Jon said, “And my father would be willing to take in some people. Like the Twins. And you, actually, he and Aunt Elia were fond of your mum, I think they were academic penpals, though you’d have to ask Rhae for more details. Mum was a year older, I think, and Sansa’s Aunt Lysa in the same year.” He frowned. “Dragonstone’s a bit… completely freezing, this time of year though.”

“He’d  _ actually _ be willing to take Harry on?” Hermione looked at Jon skeptically. “And I’d love to come, Sansa, though I need to ask my parents.”

“That isn’t what I meant!” Jon protested. “Except for the bit where he’s a bit… odd and not always fond of people.”

“Do say you’ll come,” Sansa said, making her eyes very wide and pleading. 

“Arya won’t believe she actually has friends if we don’t,” Ron sighed. Sansa switched to a looming glare, made more useful by Ron coming up to her nose. Hermione had her arms crossed and looked ready to give a lecture.

“I was going to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays,” Harry said, backing up a bit. “I don’t think we could…” He tried to figure out how to signal “I want to know more about the three-headed dog” without saying anything.

“We’ll ask Professor McGonagall, she knows my parents, and there will be aurors and everything, it’ll be perfectly safe,” Sansa said brightly. “Plus we can ask Aunt Lya or someone about the… thing.”

“Or wait until Mr. Baratheon gets drunk and ask then,” Jon offered. He paused. “Well, not me, obviously, unless he’s so drunk he thinks I’m Uncle Ned.”

“That too,” Sansa said, wrinkling her nose, “please?”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”


	2. Can't Claim Innocence

Sansa wanted to curl in on herself, that night, when she woke because of cold fingers on her throat, the feeling of falling, Joffery’s eyes when…

She put a crick in her back, the number of times she violently woke up from a nightmare since the Yule Ball last year.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” she told herself. She’d hidden in the Room tonight- Hermione, of all people, had suggested it, worried about what might happen if Joffery or the rest of Umbridge’s minions got to her.

_He’s a seventh year, he knows what he is doing, he can make Arya and Bran suffer if I don’t make him happy._

“Hey, Sansa,” came a voice from the corner. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Trys?” she asked. Trystane was meddling with a potion, twiddling a knife with his good hand absently. It would be more worrying, if she didn’t see him do it with quills, pens, forks, his wand, once, very memorably, a Sugar Quill Crookshanks had stolen from his hands as he daydreamed. 

“Couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d start experimenting. Harry lent me the Cloak as long as I promised not to get caught- I think he wanted me to check on you,” he said. “Do you think Umbridge might stroke out if we turned her into a Smurf?”

“Wizardborn, Trys,” she said, wishing she was wearing her bra, which was currently peeking out from under the legs of the cot. She kicked the bit of red cotton further under the cot, trying not to blush.

“Right,” he said. “Well, think tiny, blue, and irritating.”

“So you just want to turn her blue?” Sansa asked, skeptically.

“Eh, I thought getting all the suits of armor to stalk her might be funnier, but I would have done better if Aegon or Little Bit was here,” he said. 

“If Aegon was here, he’d probably just put mushrooms in all her food,” Sansa said, dryly. She _remembered_ the Great Accident of Christmas 1991. She’d never been entirely sure if it had been inspired by a classmate attempting to turn spiced pumpkin juice into rum. Arya seemed to think it was, when they spoke about it to Ginny.

“He would,” Trys said, thoughtfully. “I could do something that… hah, Sansa, you are amazing, you know that?”

Sansa chose not to ask, but she managed to fall asleep with a smile on her face.

And if Trys had somehow managed to get the cups of Hogwarts to turn every drink that Umbridge had into vodka, and added a very special chemical to her wand polish, well.

Sansa sitting quietly and smiling was not a new thing at all.


End file.
